


Racing Hearts

by Alexander Boldin (Blanquette)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, F/M, Genderbending, Mom-porn, Other, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:26:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4341332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blanquette/pseuds/Alexander%20Boldin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For those of you who have read Thanks Buttercup (under Blanquette), this is the mom-porn Stiles is actually writing while inserting Derek in. I don't know what I'm doing so I'll let Scott explain it in his own words:<br/>"You can make, you know, those books with shirtless guys on the covers. And one can be about, I dunno, a young woman moving into a town, meeting a rugged mechanic, someone dies, he gets accused but deep down she knows it's not him. So she tries to find out who really did it. And he helps her. With his DICK"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tyler&Tyler

**Author's Note:**

> Note to all: I am drunk
> 
> and it kinda got away from me
> 
> you go Brenda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella meets Tyler the hot mechanic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got away from me so fast srsly I'm so sorry

It was already night when Stella finally pulled up in front of the house. Her car had barely made it all the way here, and she knew she would have to get it checked tomorrow. She remained in her sit for a while, twisting her gorgeous locks of strawberry-blond hair in her perfectly manicured fingers. She knew what awaited her in the house and she wasn't quite ready to face her sister now, not after all that went down between them. She had thought their father being mauled to death by a moose while on a hiking trip in Canada would have bring them closer, but she had been mistaken. 

When the lights of the porch went on she finally got out, getting her heavy suitcase from the trunk and dragging her behind as she made her way to the door. It swung open before she could even reach the bell and Brenda stood there, looking at her with her dull brown eyes. Aging made her look more and more like a cow. If only she had the gentleness of their character, but she was dry as a biscuit. She sighed and waived her inside.

-Would you like something to drink? 

Stella declined, she was tired, and even this seemed to get on Brenda's nerves. Stella knew her sister had always been jealous of her. Stella was more beautiful, more bright, more funny, more cultured, more well-dressed, more gifted with her hands, knew more magic-tricks, was more popular with children and dogs alike, and always had 75% more chances on finding money on the sidewalk. Brenda couldn't help but being envious, Stella knew, but it didn't mean she had to be so disagreeable all the time. 

-I think I'll just get an early night.

-Okay. The room on the second floor is all yours.

-Thank you Brenda. How are you?

-Good enough.

Stella smiled, showing off her pearly, nicely proportioned, really white teeth, and buck-toothed Brenda just rolled her eyes while adding a bit of Brogan's Legacy Irish Single Malt Whiskey into her coffee. She couldn't stand the bitch. 

Stella had already disappeared upstairs with a wave, eager to get rid of the strain of all the traveling she had done to get here, with a nice, hot shower. She got out of her summer dress and padded naked into the bathroom, winking at her reflection in the mirror while thanking the gods she didn't look like poor Brenda.

The warm water on her skin did wonders, loosening her strained muscles, and if it had been a real bath rather than just a cheap-ass shower she would have fallen asleep right there and then. She stayed as long as she could, steam invading the room, and only when Bovine Brenda started to cry about saving hot water did she lightly step out, wrapping herself in a fluffy blanket, pearly pearls of pearly water dripping from her hair unto her sun-kissed skin. She felt great. Apart from her dad suddenly dying, leaving her to sort out the house with her aesthetically displeasing sister, life was gorgeous.

She went to bed early that night, without eating anything because who does that, and woke up feeling fresh and rested the next morning. Brenda was nowhere to be seen, maybe because her coffee had become more whiskey than coffee at some point in the night and she was now sleeping it off. Stella ate a light breakfast and started to browse the internet to find the nearest mechanic. Her car was making strange noises for quite some time now, and had started to fume when she had arrived in Beacon Hills. She was afraid it was starting to be more like a deathtrap than an actual car. Brenda sawing off the brakes earlier that night didn't help any.

Tyler&Tyler was the closest mechanic to her dad's house and they had nice reviews on yelp, so she drove there after another gorgeous shower. She had done her hair nicely because who knows what might happen when you go see the mechanic. 

When she arrived, no one was at the front desk so she started to wander around. It was in a nice neighborhood - strictly speaking there were nothing but nice neighborhoods in this town - and if a bit run-down, it at least smelled pretty nice for a car hospital. The sound of a radio led her straight to the workshop and she stepped-in, hoping to find someone that could help her. There was just one person there, maybe the titular Tyler, bent over a car with the hood popped-up and his hands disappearing inside. All she could see was two manly buttocks decked out in dirty overalls. She stared a little because that was a fantastic ass if she ever saw one, and she had to look away when her insides started to flutter. It was a first for her, that good an arse, even if she knew they existed because she had seen them on TV. Well, there had been Brian once, she wasn't sure if he really had a great bottom, but it was huge, so there was this tremendous sense of value.

The guy stood up suddenly, and looked around him, his gaze settling on Stella. He had mesmerizing hazel eyes and she felt them pierce into her soul, setting everything there on fire. The guy arched his perfectly sculpted eyebrows and asked something she didn't hear, distracted as she was by him wiping his grease-stained hand on a grey Henley hugging bulging pectorals. She had to ask him to repeat himself, but then he was scratching his stubble-covered jaw and she thought that he could probably gut a guy with a jaw that sharp and the right amount of enthusiasm.

-Miss, you feeling okay?

His voice was surprisingly soft and she managed to get a grip on herself, smiling sheepishly as if caught doing something she shouldn't have.

-Yes, sorry, I just came in to get my motor checked but I couldn't find anyone and...

-That's alright.

He smiled then, and she felt weak in the knees. The man had goddamn adorable rabbit teeth and really good dental hygiene.

-Where did you park it? 

-It's, erm, right outside.

He nodded and walked past her. She followed him immediately. His overalls where only half on, sitting low on his hips, and she had to bite her lips to prevent herself from touching the back muscles she saw rippling under the Henley. She chose to just fixate her gaze on the back on his head but it was equally troubling. He had gorgeous black hair and she was already imagining her hand running through them when he turned around.

-Which one is it?

-The blue sedan.

He gave his curt nod again and a small sigh passed her lips. She was so goddamn thirsty. 

-Okay, let's see what you got under the hood.

She knew he was talking to the car but she closed her eyes for all of ten seconds, imagining that rugged man pressed-up against her chest, gripping her hair tight and murmuring low in her ear how dirty her hubcap were.

-Miss, I will have to keep her here for some time.

She snapped her eyes opened and zeroed-in on him. 

-Oh, okay, no big deal.

-Do you live close by? Can you get a lift?

She thought of Brenda and the idea of her standing in the same space as that man molded by the gods felt not quite right.

-No but that's okay, I can walk.

-I take a break in about 15 minutes if you can wait?

-Oh, thank you, sure. I wouldn't want to impose.

-It's no big deal.

He got the car in his workshop and she stayed by the door, watching him work without a word. He was telling her things sometimes, about her car, and she nodded as if she had any idea what the heck he was talking about when everything sounded just dirty in her mind.

-Your filter hole is really dirty. That's what made the noises. You need to check your hole more often. I can do it for you but you'll need to come more often.

-Sure.

-Is that camshaft an original part? Doesn't look it.

-Maybe not, it's an old car.

-It needs to be changed but it's a big shaft. I don't know if I have a big enough shaft.

-God I hope so.

-Don't worry, I'm good at what I do.

Stella smiled at him, her brightest smile, and he stopped in his tracks, like lost in thoughts, hand curled around a mechanical part. Those godlike eyebrows of him were slightly furrowed, and he had smeared grease on one of his high cheekbones. Grease be damned she wanted to lick him, but she was paralyzed. He had this intimidating aura about him, as if he was just nice enough for people to leave him alone but was in fact unreachable. She didn't quite know where that came from because all in all they had talk for like ten minutes, but she was pretty sure she had it right. After all she didn't win a medal for best socializing skills in high school for being wrong now.

-What is your name?

He seemed to hesitate before answering.

-Tyler. It's, like, written everywhere.

-Oh yeah, sorry. I'm Stella.

He nodded again, and that's when she realized. She needed him. She needed him between her thighs, she needed him flush against her, she needed him cooking pancakes naked in an apron, she needed him anytime anywhere. Desire was a monster and she was its slave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why Stella is such a bitch I didn't mean to. Tyler deserve better.


	2. A body in plain sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A body is found, and the plot thickens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no car parts-based innuendos but I hope you'll like it nonetheless.

The ride home was as smooth as Tyler's strapping hand on the gear shift.

-You don't drive an automatic?

-No. I like to have things well in hand. 

Stella shivered, unable to stop herself from thinking about what other things he could have well in hand.

Her breasts. It was her superb, perky breasts. And her magnificent, adequate-sized hips while he would be ramming her from- 

She got cut off by a sudden pothole in the road that made her jerk forward a little. She shivered, unable to stop herself from thinking about what other thing she could jerk forward a little.

His dick. It was his gorgeous, heavy dick.

-Sorry. Pothole. Are you alright? You're sweating a little.

Sweat. She shivered, unable to stop herself from thinking about what other thing could be covered in sweat.

His body. It was his magnificent, lion-hearted body, bulging muscles glistening in the sunlight. Because they would do it outside. In the sun.

Trying to regain countenance, she swallowed, but then - 

She shivered, unable to stop herself from thinking about what other thing she could be swallowing right now. 

Man-juice. It was man-juice. Salty, gooey, disgusting man-juice running down her throat after he would have -

-Miss? Miss I'm getting real worried, are you going to pass out? Your eyes are kinda doing that thing where they roll back into your head and I don't think that's normal, miss.

She gave a throaty laugh and waved her hand dismissively.

-I'm perfectly fine.

-You are.

She gave another throaty laugh and looked out the window, thinking she was going to cream herself if this was to go on any longer. But thankfully, they reached her house under ten sweaty minutes. When they got here, Bovine Brenda was sitting on the porch, crying, eating what appeared to be cookie dough by the spoonful from a big bowl, while occasionally taking a sip from a beer bottle. Stella considered telling Tyler to go further, that this wasn't her house, but he had already got out of the car and was frantically waving at Brenda, who looked up. She didn't wave back. Her crying intensified, as well as the frequency at which the spoon got from the bowl to her mouth. Her hand was a blur, it was quite impressive. At least Tyler must have thought so, because he had stopped waving and was just looking at her, impressed. Stella got out of his strapping automobile.

-Do you know her?

-Yes. She used to go out with my brother.

-You have a brother?

-Yes. A twin. You know. The other Tyler from Tyler&Tyler.

-You have a twin named Tyler?

-Actually we're triplets.

-You're triplets?

Stella just thought about three identical Tylers looking at her and her brain fried a bit.

-Yes.

-What is the third one named?

-Fitzwilliam William.

-Your parents named you guys Tyler, Tyler, and Fitzwilliam William?

-Yes.

He didn't seemed to think there was a problem here so Stella decided to move on, exactly like she did when she had ran over Tommy the Toddler when she was sixteen.

-Okay. Well, she's my sister.

Just then she realized buck-tooth Brenda had managed, sometime in her life, to land a duplicate of Tyler, and she looked at her, impressed. Meanwhile, impressive Brenda was starting to grow uncomfortable under all this impressed staring and slowed down on the impressive eating and the impressive drinking and the impressive crying. "What do you want from me?!", she shouted at them, in her best romantic heroine voice.

-Nothing mine fair lady, we just came to gaze upon thou.

Brenda stood up, dramatically dropping her bowl of sweet, sweet cookie dough, oh, please, let me slather myself in your buttery goodness, you gift from Heaven™

-Gaze upon me? I am not a simple callet hither to be oogl'd.

-Resume thy crying, we want'd not to disturb thou.

-Come hither and mortal arbitrament me thou asshole!

Tyler seemed a bit shocked at the prospect of mortal arbitramenting Brenda, but there she was, climbing down the porch, her face distorted by fury. Then, he understood.

-I'm not Tyler! I'm Tyler!

Well, that's what he would have said if a fist hadn't vigorously collided with his manful jaw and sent him flying against his bashful car's robust trunk. He thought Brenda was surprisingly strong for a woman, and then wondered for a while if this wasn't a bit of a sexist thing to think. After all, if biology had indeed adorned men with a built allowing superior upper body strength, it didn't mean anything in practice and women could develop everything men could, and then he didn't really know where he was going with this, and anyway, his train of thought was derailed by a scream.

It was Stella.

Sweet, sweet Stella, with the perky breasts and the hair like summer, and a voice like a shrill harpy. Was harpies sexist? Female monsters were always about bringing men to their death, like sirens, and he felt that maybe there was something a bit sexist underneath it all, but then maybe there was not, and yes, now wasn't the time to think about it. He should really have gone through with his gender studies class. Tyler stayed on the floor a bit longer, trying to remember what was happening before all these thoughts assaulted him, and decided it was time to get back on his feet to assess the situation.

Brenda was staring in horror. Stella was still screaming, and there was good chances it was also in horror. She had such impressive lung capacity Tyler thought maybe she should get into singing. He looked at what Brenda was staring at and his mouth hung open. When his beefcake body had hit the trunk it had sprung open, even if it didn't really make sense at all as it should have caved in. A man was now staring at them from the booth. Staring at them with the cold, dead eyes of deadly death. There was a dead man in his trunk. He was real dead. He was so dead he couldn't get any deader. If there was a being dead contest, he would have won. So dead not even a necromancer could have done anything for him. Or maybe yes but Tyler shook his head. Now wasn't the time to think about perky breasts, sexist harpies or necromancers. There was a dead man in his trunk, and he hadn't put it there.

Stella had stopped screaming and was now staring at him.

-How could you?! How could you get me in the same car as a dead body?!

Tyler thought that maybe she didn't have her priorities straight but apologized nonetheless.

-I'm sorry. I didn't know it was there. It doesn't even smell!

Actually, now that the trunk was open, it really did smell. Brenda was poking at it with a stick.

-Wow. He's really dead.

-Yes, I think we've established that.

Brenda looked up and snarled at her sister. She had watched a lot of wildlife documentaries in her time, to perfect the perfect snarl. She was real proud. She had even thought about filing her teeth to look more ferocious but it was taking things a bit far. She wasn't ready. Not yet anyway. 

-Did you kill him?

It was Stella again. Once she got hold of the spittoon she never let it go. Thinking herself clever. That bitch.

-No! Of course not. I wouldn't stuff a guy I killed in my trunk. It's sloppy. I would, like, cut him up in little pieces and, like, sprinkle him everywhere. Tiny, tiny little pieces. Like smaller than a dice. I'm sure you can do that with an industrial saw. After you drain him of blood. Yeah. 

Tyler ceased discoursing when he became cognizant of Brenda and Stella's oculus rubbernecking him with meager woe.

-I'm calling the cops.

-Brenda, no!

Stella launched herself at her sister while she was taking out her phone, but all those wildlife documentaries had given Brenda catlike reflexes. By symbiosis maybe. Who knows. So she easily side-stepped her sister and Stella came crashing down, into Tyler, and both of them tumbled in the grass. She steadied herself with a hand on Tyler's firm pectoral, and gazed into his hazel eyes. She could see herself reflected in those dark pupils. Tiny and upside down. She had to fight the urge to fix her hair and a small breath escaped her cherry lips.

-Hhhhhh.

Tyler put his manly hand on her nicely-shaped waist to steady her and a shiver ran down her spine. He was so ruggedly handsome she felt hot all over. His virile body was pressing against hers, and she felt the same urge to smother him she had when looking at cute babies. Smother them and eat them. Instead, because it was really counterproductive, she squirmed a bit, pretending to try and get up while pressing her chest against Tyler's, without once breaking eye-contact. It was his turn to let out a ragged breath. 

-Rrrhhhhh.

-Mmmmmh, she counterclaimed.

It was magnificent. A dialogue without words. Both their bodies moving in perfect unison, fitting into each others like the pieces of a puzzle, like a hot-dog in a bun, like a duck in a pond. She wanted him, and she knew he wanted her. The sun was shining over them like a loving mother.

But then, the magic was broken. Brenda had indeed called the police and they had already come, parking the cruiser before Tyler's car.

-Oh boy, said a stout officer, taking in the dead cadaver being dead in the trunk.

-That is one dead son of a bitch, said his partner, another stout officer, but with a mustache this time.

-Whose car is this?, inquired the first one.

-This guy, pointed Brenda while pointing at Tyler and her sister.

-Are they wrestling?

-I think it's called mating in this case.

-Why is she wriggling like this.

-Does he have asthma?

Brenda got real tired real quick and nudged the mustached officer.

-Shouldn't you be arresting someone?

-Oh yes.

And that's how the magic was broken. The stout officer got hold of Stella and pushed her aside, while the stout officer but with a mustache this time got hold of Tyler and got him up, telling him he was under arrest and all those stuff you're supposed to say when arresting someone. He used his Stern Voice. And he called Tyler "son". It made him feel all giddy inside.

-Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, cried Stella when they got Tyler in the back of the cruiser. This was terrible. She knew he was innocent, and not only because her vagina needed him out of jail. She was sure of it, it was deeply beating in her heart, it was sloshing around in her stomach, it was laboriously creeping down her intestines and slowly solidifying in her rectum. She ran after the police cruiser.

-Tyler! I will prove your innocence! You can count on me!

And she fell to her knees, crying. Behind her, Brenda snickered ominously.

**Author's Note:**

> I SHOULD NOT be allowed to drink rhum alone on a national holiday because this is the kind of shit that I do.  
> I love Brenda.


End file.
